Thanksgiving.

On Thanksgiving morning, I usually wake up around 9:30 a.m. and sluggishly walk to my den just in time to watch a good portion of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.  I can hear dishes and pans clinking downstairs, and the heat from the busy kitchen begins to creep slowly up the stairs around 10.  After watching the floats, singers, and dancers make their way down the congested streets of Manhattan, I usually take a shower and start to get ready for our family to arrive.  

When I finally make my way down the stairs, I see the welcoming fireplace and quickly rush to sit by it, joining my dog Lucy.  Out the window, I see my dad stacking more firewood with, of course, a huge cigar in his mouth.  The smell of sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, and fresh turkey continues to fill the air.  Sadly, I must wait another two hours before our family arrives and we dig-in to the mouth-watering food.  

Oh how I love turkey day.